Desperado y El Diablo
by Lunar Kitty
Summary: Grimmjow reflects on his life and his approaching death.


**A/N: A short Grimmy one-shot! I'm having a muse-filled week. Expect new chappies of the Bya/Hisa stuff soon! Spoilers for current manga and latest episodes!**

**Suggested listening: "Long Black Train" by Josh Turner**

The threshold of death loomed noxiously on Grimmjow's consciousness, his clawed fingers scrabbling against the lose shale and sand of Las Noches, the ground beneath him soaked and stained with his own blood.

_**There's a long black train**_

_**Coming down the line**_

_**Feeding off the souls**_

_**That are lost and cryin**_

_**Rails of sin**_

_**Only evil remains**_

_**Watch out brother for that long black train**_

The scent that had once filled him with the desire for blood lust now left him parched and desperately thirsty. His tongue smacked against split and bleeding lips, chapping them further. He winced as they cracked again, his precious life spilling from their surface.

_**Look to the heavens**_

_**You can look to the skies**_

_**You can find redemption staring back into your eyes**_

_**There is protection and there's peace the same**_

_**Burning your ticket for that long black train**_

"Shit...," he coughed, hauling himself semi-upright, his gaping wounds numbed from exposure and rubbed raw by thousands of grains of Las Noches' pristine sand. He had been awakened by the reverberations of the fight between that brute from Soul Society and Noitorra. He no longer delighted in the sound of Noitorra's blood gushing from gaping wounds, or the heavy breathing of his opponent.

_**Cuz there's victory in the Lord I say**_

_**Victory in the Lord**_

_**Cling to the father and his Holy Name **_

_**Don't go riding on that long black train**_

Even the blistering desert sun could no longer warm the ice that seeped through his veins. He had a heart of stone, the kind that didn't feel the gentle kiss of summer rain or the caress of the wind against his face. Blackness rolled across his vision, his fingers delving deep into the sand, as if to root himself firmly to the plain beneath him.

_**There's an engineer on that long black train**_

_**Making you wonder if the ride is worth the pain**_

_**He's just a waitin' on your heart to say**_

_**Let me ride on that long black train**_

"Not yet," he hissed, his precious breath oozing out and creating small whirlwinds of sand that scattered in the wind.

But his strength failed him. He managed to drag himself to the base of one of the massive pillars decorating the landscape, shielded from the majority of the fighting as he lay there, spent. He heard Noitorra's final breath, the exhale of acceptance that welcomed the darkness.

"Bastard," he spat, blood and saliva pooling up before their total absorption into the world that grew beneath the tiny trees and miles of white sand.

_**But you know there's victory in the Lord I say**_

_**Victory in the Lord**_

_**Cling to the father and his Holy Name**_

_**And don't go riding on that long black train**_

He felt Ichigo leave, felt his reiatsu fade as Ulquiorra's flared violently, the two slamming into each other. His eyesight wavered blindly, everything fading black as he forced himself to suck in his next breath.

Footsteps slammed into the ground next to him, and he gurgled on his own blood as he stared into the face of Zaraki Kenpachi, the berserker. His zanpakutou's point reached out and touched Grimmjow's flesh, muscle and sinew torn, bone fragments shredded amidst the damage.

He smiled, and then rolled his eyes down to his own wounds, which were almost as gruesome.

"You're fucked," he coughed, sliding down the blood splattered pole behind Grimmjow's back.

Grimmjow grimaced and reached vainly for Pantera's hilt, then left it. He didn't care anymore.

_**I can hear the whistle from a mile away**_

_**It sounds so good**_

_**But I must stay away**_

_**That train is a beauty, making everybody stare**_

_**But it's only destination is the middle of nowhere**_

"So, Grimmjow, eh?" Kenpachi snarled, leaning his head back against the pole in relief. He could vaguely hear Orihime's gentle footsteps as she approached the two of them.

"What?" Grimmjow snapped back, eyes fluttering shut. Maybe the bleeding would stop…

"About your comrade…," Kenpachi said, his voice sarcasm laden.

Grimmjow looked at Noitorra's steaming corpse and let out a barking cough, "Fuck 'im, Noitorra's a douche."

Kenpachi chuckled and then laughed, using the edge of his robe to wipe his sword blade clean.

_**But you know there's victory in the Lord I say**_

_**Victory in the Lord**_

_**Cling to the Father and his Holy Name**_

_**And don't go riding on that long black train**_

Orihime's worried face peered around the column, her hands reaching out tenderly to touch Kenpachi's shoulder. He smiled, then gestured his hand towards his wounds. The orange haired girl turned to administrate her skills, pausing as she hovered over Grimmjow's weakened torso.

Fear gripped her face, a drop of sweat hitting the ground. Grimmjow could tell she was deliberating.

To heal him, or just let him die. He deserved to die – he'd almost killed her hero, her would-be lover.

"I reject," she whispered, her orange shield surrounding both he and Kenpachi, to Grimmjow's surprise.

_**I said cling to the Father and his holy name**_

_**And don't go riding on that long black train**_

Grimmjow's wounds knit back together, his lungs expanding with relief as his broken body regenerated. Blood pumped anew, his reiatsu screamed to be released.

And as he rested, renewed in his first form, Orihime grabbed his hand and squeezed, hard.

"You," she began, orange hair like flames around her face, "owe me."

And Grimmjow, abandoned by Aizen, his fraccion, and given his new lease on life, merely nodded and handed her his zanpakutou.

"My allegiance is yours."

Death could wait.

**A/N: I consider this a weird take on Grimmjow's personality – but I kinda didn't want to let him die. **

**I hope he doesn't die for real! **


End file.
